


Scorched Earth

by Morteamore



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Fallout 76
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, Dubious Consent, Intercrural Sex, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Monster sex, Non-Human Genitalia, PWP, Rhys does not have cybernetics, Rimming, Tetraphilia, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: Rhys knew there'd be difficulties trying to get by after Reclamation Day. Which is why he thought teaming up with the brilliant engineer Jack might make his new life outside the vault simpler. But when a scorchbeast decides to pay his base a visit, his hope for peace of mind gets shaken.





	Scorched Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Conter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conter/gifts).



A cry split the warm, sun-stroked afternoon, guiding Rhys’ gaze away from the current task of filling the brahmin trough and towards the sky. He held his hand to his brow, blocking out the light long enough to see a large form swoop by, the expanse of its leathery wings casting deep shadows over the terrain below. The young man frowned, suppressing a chill as he kept a careful eye on its trajectory. 

Scorchbeast.

Unpredictable at best, a complete menace at worst. When he’d first scoped the land for his current base, he’d made sure none had made nests too close by nor hunted in the vicinity. Unfortunately, he wasn’t an expert on the creatures. It was possible he’d overlooked clear signs of scorchbeast activity without knowing it. The fact that there was one soaring not too high above him was a clear indicator of that. They only came to the surface when their numbers became too populous, as far as he knew, so either this one had recently crawled from a breach, or had been skulking around undetected for the past few months. Surely it would have hunted them down by now if the case had been the latter, so Rhys figured it was a newcomer to the surface.

Either not noticing Rhys was there, which he highly doubted, or not caring, the bat-like creature cried out again and did another circuit of the immediate area, flapping off into the distance afterward. The young man watched it become a speck on the horizon, only turning away when he heard footsteps. 

“That was a scorchbeast, huh?” the man approaching Rhys commented, tone only half-interested.

His blue and yellow jumper zipped down halfway, arms pulled out of the sleeves so that the top portion hung limply behind him, Rhys’ companion wore a stained and greasy yellow tank top. In his hand he carried a palm full of blackberries, no doubt the reason for the grotesque chewing noises coming from him and the ruby tinge to his lips.

“That seemed to be the case,” Rhys answered, dusting his hands off.

“Better keep your eyes open, then, if it’s flying this close. Might be planning an ambush.”

“Somehow I doubt that, but I’ll take your advice.” 

Rhys brushed some loose hairs off his forehead and fixed his gaze on the other man. The two men shared the trait of heterochromia, only where his companion’s eyes consisted of one blue and one green, Rhys’ eyes were closer in hue to each other. One was a rich chocolate brown, the other golden like honey.

“How’ve you been holding up, Jack? We really haven’t talked much lately.”

“You kinda made it clear you weren’t interested in me, remember?”

“In _sleeping_ with you.” A sigh escaped Rhys and he shook his head. “I like your platonic company just fine. In fact, I’ll even offer to make you lunch. That is, if you haven’t ruined your appetite with our blackberry crop.”

The rest of the blackberries Jack was holding disappeared into his mouth, wet smacking sounds accompanying his chewing. “I could eat,” he answered, not bothering to swallow first.

“Good. We’re having your favorite: Cram with macaroni and cheese.”

“You do know how to spoil me sometimes, Rhysie.”

The pair finished up a couple more small chores around the base before heading back to their main living quarters where Rhys began the preparations for lunch. Jack retrieved two Nuka colas from their stash and they chatted while the food cooked, Jack going into detail about the progress he’d been making on building them a generator, which would eventually help improve their entire irrigation system. 

Jack Lawrence was a brilliant engineer. Though he was older than Rhys by almost a decade, he’d been chosen by Vault-Tec at a still tender age as a top-ranking citizen in his field. Which differed from Rhys in that the younger man hadn’t been anyone significant, just the only son of the Altons, a diligent farming family that had managed to patent certain hybrid crop seeds. He and Jack hadn’t even known each other while they’d lived in the vault all those years. Reclamation Day had been the first time they’d met, both of them alone and tasked with starting anew. Rhys wasn’t sure what had initially drawn them together, but he was pretty sure it had a lot to do with Jack’s physical attraction to him. The man had never made any attempt to hide his desires, or the objects of them. Which made him rather crude and obnoxious to be around at times, but also had a certain charm. 

Not having been spared from a barrage of come-ons and lewd conversations, Rhys had been uncomfortable around the older man at first, warming up to him only when he realized how intelligent he was. They’d bonded over that fact, exchanging their agricultural and technological expertise to improve their living conditions. 

Lunch was filling and afterward Jack disappeared into his workshop to tinker while Rhys opened up a book the older man had given him on beginner robotics. For someone who’d come from salt-of-the-Earth types, he had a healthy interest in machines and artificial intelligence. Jack had promised to assist him in building his very own automatron, once he’d accumulated enough knowledge on the subject. Ecstatic at the prospect of an apprenticeship, Rhys had created a makeshift crash course on robotics, spending hours devouring all the information on the subject he could get his hands on. 

It was a little over an hour into his current readings when Rhys heard the noise. At first he ignored it, thinking it was just the brahmin knocking something over outside, as it was sometimes prone to doing with its massive bulk. But then he heard it again, accompanied by a low, muffled bellow and a distant screech. That certainly didn’t sound like anything he was used to hearing and he got up and went to the window, looking out across the expanse of the land. There was nothing there to see. Not right away, at least. It took a bit of watching, but eventually the humongous, dark shape showed itself, trampling over crops as it closed in on the base. 

“Jack!” Rhys shouted, voice high with panic. “Jack, we have a problem!”

Thunderous footsteps echoed through the house, the other man appearing seconds later, his expression wide-eyed and alert.

“What? What is it, kiddo?”

With hand shaking, Rhys pointed outside, directing his companion’s gaze toward the creature there.

“Ugh, I _told_ you that scorchbeast was planning something.” Sounding more annoyed than afraid, Jack tore away from the window and marched out of the room. “Have you seen my forty-four around anywhere?” 

“Try where it usually is.”

There was some rummaging in the next room, a loud snort following soon after. “Smartass,” Jack said as he rejoined Rhys, his fingers busy feeding bullets into the revolver in his hand. He snapped the chamber shut, clicking off the safety.

“Wait, you’re going after it?”

“What does it look like? Of goddam course I am.”

“You’ll get yourself killed trying to fight it with that. Let’s just stay here and see what it does.”

Directing his gaze towards the window, Jack zeroed in on the scorchbeast beyond it. Its lumbering mass roamed across the grounds, long grasses flattening beneath its weight, its movements unhurried. The usually intimidating wings were folded against its sides, and its head swept the perimeter as if it were searching for something. 

“Great idea,” Jack remarked. “I’ll leave you to that, pumpkin.”

The younger man didn’t even get a chance to answer before his companion was heading towards the front door, pistol at the ready. A sense of helplessness undercut with a healthy dose of dread persisted in his mind as Jack stepped out onto the porch, whistling to draw the beast’s attention. Despite his trepidation, Rhys found himself following, his heart trip-hammering as he stopped in the open doorway.

“Come on, there’s got to be a better way of handling this,” he said just as the scorchbeast turned in their direction and seemed to lock eyes with Jack, its own irises beady and cruel. 

Jaws lined with in-grown fangs as large as a palm width, its mouth gaped open impossibly wide, a thin squeal emitting from within. Holding the gun with two hands, Jack steadied it in front of him. There was a moment where everything seemed to go still and quiet, the older man’s finger pulling back on the trigger.

A crack split the air, making Rhys instinctively clamp his hands over his ears. There was little time to recover as another shot rang out, and yet another. Noise swelled all around them as the scorchbeast’s cries joined the fray. Body quivering, wings flexing, it appeared to be taking damage. But not nearly enough, as within moments it was bounding forward, gaining momentum as it closed in on them. Jack let off another shot, but the beast must’ve been too enraged, as it didn’t slow down. Before either of them could think to move out of its path, it was bearing down on them, one long, clawed arm prepared to swat Jack like he was no more than a house pest.

There was no thought behind Rhys’ actions. He simply reacted, plowing into the older man from behind. Jack stumbled, finding his footing at the last moment and righting himself. Rhys was not as lucky. He went sprawling face first into the grass, getting a mouthful of dirt, almost landing where Jack had dropped his gun. Groaning, the younger man groped for it, coughing up dust as he finally managed to grab hold of the grip and climb to his feet. His legs were shaky but he remained upright, even when he felt a gust of air buffet his torso as swift and powerful as a hard blow. 

“Get the fuck out of there, Rhys!” he heard Jack call, but it seemed to come from a distance, garbled as it reached him.

Turning to look, Rhys saw that the other man was already halfway across the property with no sign of slowing down. Apparently he’d decided that the odds were against them and fled, leaving the younger man to fend for himself. If Rhys survived this, and he was damned well sure going to try, Jack would be privy to a full-on verbal assault when he caught up with him again.

Right now, though, there were more dire matters to attend to. Like the fact that the scorchbeast had taken to the air. It seemed to hover above him, staring down with what he might’ve mistaken for curiosity if the thing didn’t want to make him its next snack. The sound of its wing beats so close were deafening, its upper chest muscles flexing and contracting in time, the power in such a concentrated part of its body fascinating alone. Despite himself, Rhys couldn’t help but admire such a specimen up close, the strange grace it had in the air despite its grotesque appearance. That was the reason he never saw it swoop down, never saw the thin, elongated hind legs extend, nor the grasping claws at the end of them reach for him. They clamped down on his shoulders so tight he felt numb, yanking him up, up, until his feet were dangling high above the ground. Gun falling from his hand, he screamed Jack’s name, listening to the frantic sound echo around him. There was no reply, of course, and he could only make out a speck on the road from his vantage point. It was the only thing moving fast enough to be the other man. 

Air thinned around Rhys, making him gasp for breath and squeeze his eyes shut as they teared up from the speed and altitude of the scorchbeast’s rapid ascent. It was a harrowing flight, and though Rhys lost track of time, he knew much of it hadn’t passed since he’d been carried off. Now he could feel gravity shifting as they made their descent into the Pine Barrens. Eyes opening a crack, he could make out the pinkish blossoms sprouting from the tree tops, the claustrophobic press of forest making the woodland seem oppressive and inescapable. A shiver slithered down his spine, uneasiness churning in his stomach. 

Suddenly Rhys was falling. He landed with a hard thud that knocked the wind out of him, his lungs feeling like they were burning as he gasped for breath. It was a struggle to regain his composure, but when he did, he sat up straight, looking frantically around. The gloom enveloping him did little to explain where he was, though he noticed that there were patches of light stretched along the ground in a scattered pattern. He looked up, barely able to see the ceiling of wherever he’d been dropped. It was open to the air, craggy, letting in just enough illumination that it wasn’t completely dark. He was in what he could only conclude was a cavern, its size spacious enough to be considered a small mountain. Maybe a resting place for scorchbeasts, with the hole at the top being created from when they’d broken through to the surface. 

There wasn’t much time to ponder things as Rhys’ particular scorchbeast soon blotted out the light. It gave a screech upon landing, swiveling around until it was staring at him. Frozen in fear, his heart thumping in his chest so loud he thought it might burst through, his mind went blank. No life flashing before his eyes or ponderings of regrets and cherished memories for him. Just an empty head and a body that was a walking corpse.

The creature tilted its head as it studied him, the rest of its form unmoving. Though Rhys’ fear was still spiking, the threat level seemed less than what he’d first perceived. After spending some time in the standoff, he felt his tongue loosening, allowing him to speak.

“Uhm, hey there,” he said, feeling ridiculous. Why he was trying to communicate with a scorchbeast was beyond reasoning. Since it wasn’t outright attacking him, maybe there was a chance it was intelligent enough to understand the peaceful gesture, though. “Nice...nice place you have here.”

Creeping forward, the scorchbeast snuffled, eyes still trained on Rhys. The thing never seemed to even blink, which was disturbing upon itself. Doing what he’d been told to when confronting a new dog or cat, Rhys extended a shaking hand. He didn’t know how much scorchbeasts relied on scent as an indicator for trust, but he hoped he wasn’t accidentally inviting forth an attack. As it turned out, the beast didn’t perceive it as a threat. It didn’t acknowledge it, either. Instead it drew closer until it loomed over Rhys, a whole new wave of fear paralyzing him as he looked up at it. Moving around behind him, it made a series of strange noises, none of which sounded safe. Rhys didn’t like having it at his back, but he wasn’t going to make any sudden moves to see what it was doing. 

Something butted into him. He was shuffled forward a step, trying to figure out what was going on. It happened again and, despite his better judgment, he spun around on his heel. He didn’t get a chance to scold it as it pressed its snout against his torso. Swallowing a scream, Rhys was certain the thing would open its mouth and take a chunk out of him. But it never did. Instead it continued to nudge him, making him stumble back each time until he lost his balance and landed hard on his ass. 

Planting his hands on the dusty ground for leverage, Rhys moved to right himself. His efforts were thwarted by a clawed forepaw coming down on his leg, pinning him to the spot. The scorchbeast opened its mouth, pointed tongue lashing as it screeched, Rhys’ face getting spattered with saliva.

This was bad. 

The other forepaw came down, this time knocking him to his back, claws digging into his jumper as they held him down. He heard the telltale sound of ripping as they tore through the material like it was nothing but paper.

This was really, really bad. 

All the creature had to do was apply a little more pressure and it would crush him. Glowering, he decided he wasn’t going to die like this. Opening his mouth to yell at the thing, maybe get it to back off, his jaw went slack and gaped wide.

Maybe he’d been too previously wrapped up in fear, or maybe he was simply not paying attention. Whatever the case, there was no denying the massive length poking out from between the beast’s hind legs now, its shape familiar yet alien at the same time, leathery balls hanging heavy behind it. The thick, fleshy mass ended in a blunt head that shone brilliantly green compared to the rest of its muted purple-brownish skin. It glistened even in the low light, wrinkles and crevices in its veiny curvature accented by the dampness. Rhys wasn’t sure if he was seeing things, but it appeared that there was more than one slit, though he couldn’t make out how many in total. It definitely looked like there were two on top of the skin that cradled the head and more on the shaft. That would be undoubtedly messy, he thought, then wrinkled his nose. He should be worrying why the beast was presenting its dick to him, not contemplating how its anatomy actually worked.

Twisting against the weight atop him, unadulterated panic welled up in Rhys. Not only was he going to die here if he didn’t escape, but the scorchbeast was also going to mate with him. Or at least he thought that was the case. Doubling his efforts to break free, he felt as well as heard his clothing rip further until he knew the jumper had been thoroughly destroyed. Losing his boots in the process, he slipped from its remaining confines like a bug emerging from a cocoon, blinking as he found himself naked save for his boxers. The beast worried at his torn garment for a bit before realizing he was no longer in it. It made a clipped roaring noise when it spotted him, surging forward so quickly Rhys barely had time to get out of the way.

Things had somehow become worse. Rhys had no clothes, the scorchbeast was chasing him, and there was nowhere to hide. His chances of survival had plummeted so far that he couldn’t bare to contemplate them. Hitting a dead end, nothing but sheer rock in front of him, he turned to face the creature. A yelp escaped him as it cornered him, its tongue slithering out from between its teeth. The wet mass of it slipped along his chest, leaving a slimy trail as it licked him all the way up his face. There must have been something about him it liked, for it licked him again. Not realizing what he was doing, Rhys’ arm went up to ward it off, palm shoving at its snout. The feel of leathery skin beneath his fingers jolted him aware, and he pulled back, but not before it had begun snuffling him. Nostrils flexing, it made a curious noise, darting in to continue its investigation. Rhys went as still as he could, afraid to even breathe as it got dangerously close to his nethers. When it pressed its snout to his boxers, all he could do was let out a high pitched squeak, and when it gave them a tentative lick, he knew his fate was sealed.

“No way,” he grumbled, shaking his head, his eyes taking on a determined gleam. “You are _not_ going to destroy the only piece of clothing I have left. I’m getting out of this alive, and I _won’t_ be going home naked.”

His movements languid, his maneuvering slow, Rhys sighed and removed the only barrier between him and the scorchbeast. The creature considered his nude form for a moment, Rhys not being able to help imagine that it was admiring him, even though that was crazy. Then it was giving him a tongue bath again, this time the wriggling muscle swathing over his dick and balls. He knew he should’ve been disgusted by it, completely turned off and thinking of nothing except escape but his mind refused to cooperate. It wasn’t that he had enjoyed it, just that it had felt...interesting. Different than a human tongue. The way it coiled along his shaft all at once, the firm pressure as it undulated against him, the suppleness of its thick musculature. 

Ok, maybe he’d enjoyed it a little. It wasn’t like he’d had many blowjobs in his life to compare it to. Besides, if this was what the beast wanted from him so badly, he may as well try to find pleasure in it. It was good reasoning if he wanted to survive, or so he believed.

The scorchbeast didn’t stay concentrated on that area for long. Its tongue slithered past Rhys’ balls, making him shudder as it passed along his perineum. He squirmed hard as he felt the pointed end flick against his ass, working him there, his already hardening dick growing even stiffer. Eventually he felt it push past the muscled ring, a sharp gasp breaching his lips. The position didn’t lend itself to much penetration, but just having that short length inside him made Rhys weak in the knees. 

Again, it wasn’t something he had much experience with, and such little sensation went a long way. Breath hitching, he couldn’t hold back the low groan that escaped him. His legs finally did give out, and he almost ended up sprawled across the ground once more. The scorchbeast inched back, snorting as its tongue withdrew. Rhys almost longed for the sensation once he was bereft of it but some rational part of his mind held fast, whispering to him that he shouldn’t be wanting this. For the first time since he’d been captured, he found himself somewhat opposed to his own thoughts. If it satiated the beast’s needs, and it let him walk away alive, then what was the harm? There was no guarantee the getting away part, of course, but he had to hold on to hope. 

Rhys closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the scorchbeast was behaving strangely. He almost forgot the decision he had made, so uncanny was the display before him. The creature pranced about as if it had ingested a whole cache of caffeine, its wings unfolded, the thin membranes on display. Its head alternated between swaying and bobbing, strange, low grunts erupting from its throat; short bursts of sound without any discernible pattern. It pawed at the ground, scratching furrows in the dirt. For an indiscernible amount of time Rhys watched it until he had an epiphany. This was a dominance display. More than that, it was a dominance display particularly designed to attract a mate. As little as he knew about scorchbeasts, that much he had learned from various sources. And if this particular beast was enacting such behavior, then that meant Rhys’ assumptions were right. 

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, he clung to what he had decided only moments ago, looking around the cavern, spotting what he was searching for. Testing to see if the scorchbeast would allow him to move, he rose on shaking legs, carefully stepping over to a rock shelf that was jutting out of one of the walls. It was just high enough to lean over comfortably. Any higher, and he would’ve had to rise on his tiptoes. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the creature had noticed his movements, that it was slowly following. Sweat beaded on his brow as it got closer, his lower lip trembling as he bent over the rock and laid his chest flat against it.

This was madness. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let that thing‒

Rhys winced as something came crashing down on to the ledge to either side of his head. The scrabbling of claws filled his ears, a growl splitting the air. Something thick and rough pressed in against him and before he could register that it was the beast’s skin, he felt a rigid mass glide across his lower back. It was slippery, leaving a cooling slime trail across the base of his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He recalled the size of the beast’s length, how intimidating its shape and design was, then tried not to think about it. That proved impossible, as the fleshy member kept poking at him, seeking purchase. If he’d been thinking straight, he might’ve tried helping it along, just to get it over with. But he was barely able to grasp a single thought as his mind raced like a school of fish darting through a pond.

All thoughts came crashing to a halt as an opportunity presented itself. Its dick having been missing its target, Rhys was surprised when the scorchbeast’s length struck the back of his thighs then accidentally slipped through the gap between them. He knew an opportunity when he saw one, though, and clamped his legs together, trapping the oversized member there as if it were in a vice. With any luck, the scorchbeast would be fooled into thinking it had entered him. It seemed to work as the creature stilled for a moment. Then it shifted it legs, its claws flexing for a better grip, and thrust forward.

It didn’t feel like anything more than friction. Not at first, at least, with the scorchbeast lacking much rhythm and grace. Eventually either the creature shifted position or just hit the right spot, because soon things changed, Rhys feeling the first pool or warmth blossom in his lower half. His erection twitched in interest, a fat dollop of pre-cum forming at the slit like a droplet of morning dew. He could feel the creviced, supple skin of the beast’s length rubbing against his balls, the pressure against his own sensitive shaft having increased. The scorchbeast picked up some speed, heavy weight just short of crushing Rhys as it dragged itself against his thighs. He ignored the fact that one slip up could not only squeeze the air clean out of him, but leave him unable to breathe, concentrating instead on the dull sensations, the strange enticement of them. If he wasn’t chained to the whims of the beast, it would have been all the more pleasant. Even as it was, though, he could still derive some pleasure from it, mostly from the relief he’d thwarted the creature from actually penetrating him. That would have been disastrous. The thought of the sheer size and girth of the beast’s dick was enough to instill newfangled dread in him. He tried to cull the thought, forcing himself to focus on the present, the steady but undemanding speed in which the scorchbeast thrust against him. It was his lifeline in this harrowing situation, the thread in which he clung to to keep from dissolving into a quivering pile of frayed nerves and distressed thoughts. They way he had the creature duped was his only means of control, and he desperately needed to keep it that way.

He was faring well. At least that’s what he’d come to believe the budding, constant rumble vibrating through the beast meant. The pliant flesh of his thighs molding to its length had just enough resistance to keep the creature content and occupied. Rhys probably should have been plotting his escape after the scorchbeast had its fun with him but he was too alert, too distracted by the occasional coil of gratification that flickered like a fire battling a cold wind inside him. It never quite fully ignited, leaving him in a low-key state of arousal rather than full-on lust. 

Something thick and slippery splashed against Rhys’ inner legs, trickling down in rivulets. The scorchbeast’s dick had already been slick to the touch, but this was different, more substantial. It wasn’t quite the beast’s release, he could tell. There didn’t seem enough of it, and aside from a shudder or two, the scorchbeast hadn’t given any indication that it had climaxed. Puzzling it out, Rhys came to the conclusion the creature must’ve been close and squeezed his thighs together harder, grinding back to the best of his ability, though it made him feel all sorts of ashamed to do so. He had to keep reminding himself he merely wanted the scorchbeast to finish as fast as possible.

Much to his’ relief, the creature’s movements soon grew sloppy, its thrusts stuttering. There was a thin, high-pitched noise from it that made Rhys’ ears ring. Over the din he also heard as well as felt its wings unfurl, as if it were ready to take flight. Then, between his legs, something strange happened. Where the scorchbeast’s length had felt uniform in shape, it now seemed to have _shifted_. As if some growth had sprouted from atop it. Rhys could feel the new addition catching on his balls, concern adding to the mix of his emotions. He didn’t have long to contemplate the weirdness, the scorchbeast’s entire body seizing up around him. 

Suddenly he was being doused by an onslaught of hot, viscous liquid. Some of it missed him and dribbled onto the ground, creating a sizeable puddle. But a copious amount coated his legs and stomach, all but drenching him, leaving him a frazzled mess. Then the beast was jerking back, its dick catching on Rhys’ thighs, almost bowling him over before his brain started working again and he opened his legs. 

Something wasn’t right. The scorchbeast was grunting and snorting, scratching the ground as it’d done earlier. When it screeched, Rhys found the strength to look over his shoulder. Unrest evident in its spastic movements and the trembling arch of its knobbed spine, what drew his attention the most was its dick. Somehow it was still hard, the green head still leaking a thin dribble of darker green cum along with several other holes around its shaft and head. Well, that proved Rhys’ assumption of multiple slits true. The most interesting structure, though, were the twin pair of large, fleshy, triangular nubs behind the head that stood up like the prongs of a hook. They hadn’t been there earlier. That was probably what he’d felt before the creature had came, and what had been catching on him. Relief washed over Rhys in a surreal wave. He was beyond glad the creature’s dick hadn’t been inside him when those had unfurled. 

Drool slipped from the scorchbeast’s teeth, gossamer strands of saliva hanging between its jaws breaking as it roared at him. It seemed displeased, darting back a bit, then surging forward, snapping at him like a starving, rabid thing. Rhys found himself clambering up onto the rock ledge for safety, knowing it wouldn’t stop the beast when it came down to it. He held up his hands to ward it off, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

“You got what you wanted,” he protested. “Now let me go. M-maybe I’ll even come and visit again sometime. How does that sound?”

The scorchbeast didn’t even acknowledge that Rhys had spoken. It leaped partway on to the rock again, wings giving a few flaps to lift the other half of its body up and over the edge. Trapped, Rhys couldn’t see how he was going to get out of this.

“What do you want from me?” he finally burst out, voice nearly cracking. 

As the creature rushed Rhys in the confined space, he braced himself for the impact. Between the surge of blood in his ears and its screeching, the noise in the cavern crescendoed to deafening levels. The seeds of a migraine were beginning to sprout in the back of Rhys’ head; just one more problem to add to what was inherently a shitshow. So wrapped up in wanting to escape both sound and pain, he didn’t notice the scorchbeast had circled around him, its head colliding with his back and knocking him flat. Struggling to his hands and knees, he glanced back just in time to see the creature rear up. It dawned on him, then, why it was still acting with such aggression towards him. Even before its body all but engulfed him, before he felt its hard length stabbing aimlessly at him again, he knew.

The scorchbeast had not had its fill of him yet. It seemed its species was of the multi-orgasm variety. 

“Just fucking great,” he muttered to himself incredulously. “Damn you, Jack.”

Blaming the engineer for his predicament was the easiest way for Rhys to release some of his frustration and anxiety. Not only had the creature’s dick taken on a more intimidating shape, but he was pretty sure the beast wouldn’t be tricked so easily this time. It certainly seemed wise to what he’d previously done. 

That left only one option.

Rhys groaned inwardly, steeling himself.

“Well, let’s get this over with. I guess.”

Groping blindly behind him, it wasn’t difficult to locate the scorchbeast’s length. His hand didn’t quite encircle its entire width; something he tried not to think about as he guided the bucking shaft to his ass. It was like trying to hold on to a wild, enraged critter, his grip almost slipping more than once. As he felt the pressure of the head against his hole, his grip tightened even further, as if he were about to fall from the edge of a cliff. He may as well have been, so harrowing was the next few moments. He could feel the blunt end slipping inside him, slowly at times, allowing him to adjust and breathe evenly through the discomfort; all too forceful at other moments, making apprehension roll through him in such a forceful wave that he tensed up and disconnected entirely. It was worse when the double pronged structure bumped against him, attempting to gain entrance. 

Sweat beaded in patches across Rhys’ skin, cooling him opposite the blood threatening to boil in his veins. He grunted like a pained animal, letting go of the beast’s length to dig his fingernails into the rock, his eyes closed, breath hitching. The scorchbeast pushed itself forward with an echoing grumble. Rhys gasped sharply, the prongs sinking inside him at last, and was glad the creature’s dick had been slickened by an ample amount of cum. Anything less and he’d be in a world of pain by now.

He was already so full, fuller than he’d ever been in his life. And yet there was more of the beast to take. A shudder ran through him as he felt the head brush against his prostate, continuing on, stimulating him to a point that was threatening to liquify his mind and turn his body into putty. At last the scorchbeast hilted, its balls flush to his own but there was no relief. Especially when the creature’s hips pulled back, dragging its length with them. All the sensations were rekindled, setting Rhys on edge. He almost came right then and there when the scorchbeast slammed back in, moaning at the intensity of it.

As if things weren’t as daunting as they could be already, all of Rhys’ muscles seemed to be slackening, as if he’d just underwent an entire body massage, his hands and knees feeling like they could give out at any moment. Though it made the creature inside him’s movements easier, for he wasn’t clenching up or showing much resistance now, he knew whatever was happening wasn’t natural. Whether it be through some pheromone or the like that the scorchbeast had secreted, likely in its cum, things were encroaching on dangerous territory. Not that the situation hadn’t been perilous to begin with, only that Rhys was now at risk of being unable to move at will, or at least as quickly as he might need to.

By whatever deity’s graces, it didn’t turn out to be a total loss of muscle control. Rhys still had enough to keep himself from collapsing entirely, and it stayed at a manageable level. His pleasure even escalated, though his wariness kept him from enjoying it to the full extent. Still, the scorchbeast’s rough and forceful pistoning becoming streamlined and smooth was something he could embrace. The constant stimulation of his prostate wasn’t all that terrible either, and he soon felt his breath growing ragged in his chest. 

It was strange, as he could feel the familiar tightness in his balls signalling that his orgasm was close, yet his muscles refused to pull taut. Like opposing forces, the two sensations clashed, leaving his brain confused and his body on edge. Elbows finally giving out, his splayed fingers slid forward, the scrape of the rock against his palms barely registering. Arms out of commission, Rhys had nothing to brace himself against the impact of the creature’s thrusts. He was nearly jarred out of his skin as the movements seemed to become more powerful, his teeth clenching, a guttural sound seeping out between them, twining with the creature’s occasional grunts. 

“Fuck,” Rhys uttered, the expletive feeling cathartic as it rolled off his tongue. 

It didn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. With a dull rush of blood and a feeling of detachment, he came, spewing warm jism against himself, adding to the mess already covering him. Panting hard, his whole body shivered as if he’d been exposed to nuclear winter without proper gear. The scorchbeast continued to batter his insides, the overstimulation relentless. Trying to crawl away, Rhys realized that it was futile. Not only was he caged in by the scorchbeast’s body, but the creature noticed his position had shifted and gave a menacing growl. All he could do was endure it, his eyes squeezed shut so tight tears formed at the edges. 

A bellow shook through Rhys, rumbling in the rock beneath him. Startled, he barely noticed that the scorchbeast’s movements had slowed, that it was struggling to keep its pace. It let out an ear-shattering noise again. Then it was once more unleashing a torrent of fluid from its dick, this time the substance filling Rhys up. He let out an embarrassing squeak as the first scalding wave shot deep inside him. Squirming like a prize catch, there was so much of it he could feel a good amount had flowed back out of him, spilling down his balls and thighs. Yet still the creature had more to give, pumping its overflowing load into him, each fresh spurt bringing him to the edge of endurance. Rhys whimpered like he was wounded, wondering how the creature could produce so much semen when it had already cum once, if there would ever be an end to it. Even when it seemed it was over, he couldn’t exactly be sure. The scorchbeast hadn’t moved yet, was simply hovering over him with its dick still buried deep, little grumbles of what sounded like content escaping it every now and then. It was a lot different than the last time it had cum, the creature far more docile and lethargic. That was a relief Rhys hadn’t realized he needed.

Eventually the scorchbeast did retreat, its dick softening and slipping out of Rhys with a gush of liquid. He gasped softly at the feeling, as well as the phantom sensations that made his weak muscles flutter. The beast backed off of him, its tongue snaking out to lick at his face a few times, swirling his bangs into a matted mess before extending its wings. Strong gusts of wind swept across Rhys’ spent body as it lifted off. He thought it might ascend and leave the cavern altogether, but it merely did a lap around the interior before landing in a shadowed corner and sprawling there. It must have been exhausted, as it didn’t even re-fold its wings, wrapping them around itself instead like a fibrous shell. From there Rhys could only speculate that it had fallen into the depths of slumber, as it didn’t stir again.

For some time, he himself felt like he was sleeping, though his eyes were open and he was fully aware of his surroundings. Barely able to move, his mind would just go blank every time he tried to think, as if it had short-circuited. He watched the light drift across the ground from where it shone from the opening at the top of the cavern, until it became deep shadow, swallowing everything in its path. When the moon finally peeked out from behind a cloud like an enormous glowing eye, Rhys began to shift. Movements more controlled now, he dragged himself to the edge of the rock ledge, swinging his legs over it, lowering himself with care. He collapsed into a pile as soon as his feet touched the ground, grunting in pain, groaning with frustration. He had to find his boxers and boots and then leave before the scorchbeast awoke once more. Spotting the garment, his shoes nearby, he got to his shaky feet, stumbling towards the clothing, reclaiming balance the longer he stayed upright. By the time he was stepping into his underwear, he was confident he wasn’t going to fall over, and promptly set to slipping on his boots and finding a way out.

Not long after his search, Rhys discovered that it would take more to get back home than simply leaving the cavern. He’d have to navigate the woods as well, at night no less. He sighed deeply, resigning himself to the task. By the time he’d made it on to the first step of his porch, sunlight was beginning to streak across the sky, pale and weak, but still blinding. He entered the living quarters with eyes nearly squinted shut, blinking away spots as he moved into the kitchen. The image of Jack sitting at the table, shoving a bowl of Sugar Bombs into his mouth by the spoonful as he counted a suspiciously familiar pile of caps came into focus. As the floorboards creaked beneath Rhys’ feet, Jack looked up, expression incredulous.

“Rhysie?” he asked, mouth full of cereal. “Cupcake? Holy _shit_ , you’re a mess.” Swallowing, a sharp laugh erupted from his throat. “I thought you were a goner for sure. How the _fuck_ did you survive?”

Rhys stared at him for so long that the silence grew uncomfortable. Then, grabbing a bowl and spoon, he collapsed into the seat opposite Jack and poured himself some Sugar Bombs.

“Well, I’ll tell you, Jack,” he said, voice hoarse, words soft. He dug his spoon into the cereal, eating it dry. “It took wits. It took perseverance.”

A still tacky and thick glob of scorchbeast cum was shaken free from Rhys’ chest, plopping right smack down on top of his food. He frowned at it a moment before digging his spoon underneath it, lifting it between him and Jack. 

“But most of all?” Without missing a beat, Rhys struck like an assassin going in for a kill, shoving the spoon past Jack’s lips. “It took knowing that if I made it back alive, I’d get to extract revenge on _you_ for leaving me for dead.” 

Gagging, Jack spit the spoon out, which had almost struck the back of his throat, so hard had Rhys drove it in. His face was a mask of disgust, skin a sickly color as he coughed a few times, tongue hanging out. He shuddered and made a series of disgusted noises.

“What the fuck _is_ that?” he asked, as if noticing the thin sheen of green plastered to Rhys’ body for the first time. “It tastes like rotten ass.”

Rhys’ voice was a deadpan.

“Scorchbeast semen.”

Jack wretched and clutched his stomach.

“Now put my goddam caps back where they belong.” The younger man stood, not even sparing Jack another glance as he walked past him. “I’m going to clean up and head to bed. Don’t bother me until the week’s out.”

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a short and sweet Xmas gift for a good friend. They were cool enough to make this NSFW [illustration](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dy_yGwIWkAEvrQU.png) inspired by it.


End file.
